"Answer your prayer, Bert? Why, what do you mean?" inquired Frank.
"Why, you know, Frank, last night when I was saying my prayers, I told God all about it, and now I believe He's going to make it all right. You just see if He doesn't."
Frank was evidently very much struck with the idea of his being chosen by God to answer Bert's prayer. It was quite a new thought, and made a deep impression upon him. He was a clear and strong, if not very rapid, reasoner, and his reasoning in this case led him to the conclusion that if God thought that much of him he certainly ought to think more of God. He did not talk about it to anyone, but for many days his mind was occupied with thoughts of this nature, and their direct result was to lead him nearer to the kingdom.
At the very first opportunity Frank put his plan into execution. Arithmetic day came round, the class gathered in its place, the first sum was read out to them, and before Bert was half through working it out, Levi Cohen placed his slate softly upon the chair, and leaned back in his seat with a sly smile lurking in the corners of his mouth. Frank glanced up from his work, gave Bert a meaning look, and then dropped his slate upon Cohen's with a loud bang. The others followed more slowly, and presently the time came for the answers to be read.
Before Cohen could leave his corner, Frank rose up, seized the pile of slates, turned them over, and examined the first intently, while Bert watched him with breathless expectancy, and Cohen, at first too surprised to act, sprang forward to wrest it from his hands. But Frank moved out of his reach, and at the same time, with a triumphant smile, exhibited the face of the slate to the rest of the class, saying, in a loud whisper:
"Look, boys, that's the way he works them out."
Dr. Johnston noticed the slight commotion this created, but he was too far away to see clearly what it meant, so he called out:
"Why does not class six read their answers?"
Cohen stood up, and held up his hand.
"Well, Cohen, what is it?" asked the doctor.